The Knight's Daughter
by Carol J Forrester
Summary: Three years after Thomas started killing in Camelot and Arthur is no closer to catching him and Merlin's magic can't help either. They may have Morgana back, but will Camelot fall to someone else?   Sequal to A Warlock's sister
1. The Story So Far

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

The Story So Far

Synopsis For 'The Warlock's Sister'

_A Knight's Daughter_ is the sequel to _The Warlock's Sister_, so for those of you who have not read the first in this series, (I have yet to decided if there will be another after this), here is the synopsis for _A Warlock's Sister._

When Merlin's sister arrives unannounced in Camelot she brings chaos in her stride. Unlike any girl he has ever met before, Gwaine is soon head of heels for Merlin's beautiful (adoptive) sister. With Catherine winding each of the Knights around her little finger, and sending Arthur skidding off kilter at every opportunity, it seems like life should be perfect for Merlin.

But soon Camelot is facing another evil that it must defeat. Thomas Renwoor takes Emrys prisoner, only to find his demise at the hands of Morgana Pendragon. Now in the hands Morgana and Modred, Merlin faces being used as bait to lure in Arthur and deal Morgana the throne of Camelot. With shackles designed to dampen his powers to a degree where he can barely direct enough power to light a candle, he's as good as useless. Catherine is not about to give up though.

After placing herself firmly among the search party for Merlin, Catherine reveals one of Merlin's biggest secrets and Arthur is left to consider exactly how dangerous leaving the last Dragon Lord in his enemies' hands could be. After finding Renwoor's body and evidence of Morgana's involvement they change directions and begin to hunt down Morgana in the hopes of finding Merlin alive.

Still plotting to use Merlin to bring down Arthur, Morgana is relying of the magical shackles keeping Merlin prisoner to dampen the magic of Emrys. However, she underestimates both Merlin's loyalty and the sheer scale of magic he possesses. He is willing to destroy himself and everyone around to protect Arthur.

When Arthur and his knights reach Morgana they find that Merlin has already taken matters into his own hands, and what's left of Morgana's lair is a smoking pile of ash with Merlin at the middle. Morgana and Modred flee, leaving Catherine to deal with the fallout of Arthur, and the rest of the knights learning of Merlin's magic.

Arthur killing Merlin for possessing magic is not the only concern though. Morgana may have killed Renwoor but death had always been his plan. With the use of very ancient and very dark magic, Renwoor has made himself invincible, but at a price.

Unaware of Renwoor's growing threat, Arthur and his knight's trek back to Camelot with Merlin hanging onto life by a thread after his treatment at both the hands of Renwoor and Morgana. Catherine makes it clear that she has no qualms about killing Arthur and his knights to protect her brother, and somehow they don't doubt she would find a way to manage it.

Furious at Merlin for hiding his magic, Arthur faces both betrayal and loss as it seems his best friend may not survive long enough to provide an explanation for what has happened.

When at last they do reach Camelot, Arthur finds himself dealing with waiting for Merlin to wake up, the Great Dragon standing guard outside the city walls and Gwaine growing infatuation with Catherine. An infatuation that seems to be shared on both sides as Catherine seeks comfort in Gwaine arms.

With Arthur's views on magic slowly changing Merlin wakes, but his mind is elsewhere from the events of Camelot. He puts Caroline's continued stay down to sisterly love and not the real cause of her so called stomach bug while trying to adjust to waking up in a world where Arthur knows about his magic and he had not been burnt at the stake.

Renwoor has not finished tormenting Merlin thought, and after waking from a dream of Morgana being held prisoner by Renwoor, Merlin sets out to save her. It is easy enough for him to find her using his magic and pull her from the dungeons where she was held, and suddenly it is as if the old Morgana has returned.

It is a small victory though. With Morgana back in Camelot, Merlin safe and Gwaine and Catherine's first child born it seems as if Camelot is setteled again. Until they find the body of a young woman in the citadel courtyard and the whole of Camelot realises that the evil has just begun.

**(**_**The Warlock's Sister **_** is up for a major redrafting! It will not impact on the plotline, but my writing style has improved since I wrote it and I want to try and expand on the chapters I have since it is currently very short for the amount I have going on.)**


	2. Chapter 1

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter One

Arthur found it difficult to resist the urge of resting his head against his arm and simply falling asleep at the council table. Lord Moroworth had been rambling on for three hours and not a word of what the man had said managed to make its way into Arthur's consciousness. The swollen Lord's monotonous voice had succeeded in boring every one of the knights present into a gormless slumber, yet the speaker continued on as he had before.

Arthur glanced to his right where Merlin was trying to adjust the smile on one of Eveline's dolls. The aim was to make it more comforting and natural than the current maniacal grin that had led to Gwaine holding it at arm's length when first presented with the gift for his daughter. Gwaine himself was asleep. Head hanging over the back of his seat with a thin stream of clear drool slowly making its way down his chin to puddle on his shoulder. Arthur was more inclined to put this down to a three year old daughter and six month old son; both of whom were refusing to sleep through the night.

"She won't tell me what's wrong." Catherine had confided in Arthur. "She says she has nightmares but she won't tell me what they're about." No more had been said on the matter, but certain care had been taken to remove anything from the nursery that might scare Eveline.

In the far corner, away from the meeting table, Elyan and Percival were pouring over papers which they had smuggled in. Maps which pinpointed the location of each attack in the spate of murders that had been taking place sporadically for the last four years.

The lack of progress towards catching the killer was a sore point for all those involved, and Eveline was lucky to be let out of her mother's hawk like gaze for more than five minutes at a time.

"Moving onto grain bushels…." Lord Moroworth continued, revealing he wasn't even halfway through his annual report. A series of small groans flitted around the table and Arthur shifted his weight in the unforgiving wooden seat that his father should have been occupying. He wondered how Uther had ever managed to sit through these yearly meetings and not lose his mind completely.

Merlin looked up as he sensed Arthur freezing beside him. A mixture of horror and complete loss mixed across his features, letting Merlin know that it was Uther plaguing Arthur's thoughts.

Uther would never take back the throne. That much was taken for granted by the people of Camelot. They trusted Arthur to lead them as Regent, and Uther was left to live out his days in comfort and the company of servants. Arthur's visits had become rarer as time went on, leaving Merlin to wonder if Arthur did not believe that there was anything left of his father inside that shell. The Prince's words seemed to have no effect and the good days were limited to Uther turning his face a little so that the sun's rays could warm it.

In the previous year Morgana had married Merlin and the small bump of their first child was just starting to show. Morgana's beauty seemed somehow magnified with the happiness that now followed her around like an extra person and she and Arthur were on better terms. They would never be as close as they were but they had reached an interesting sort of understanding that suited them both well enough. She would be waiting close by the council chambers for the meeting to finish so that she could drag Merlin away to discuss plans for the baby.

The sound of guards warning someone not to enter caught Arthur's attention. Outside there was the rasp of swords being drawn and then a clang as the handle of a dagger connected with a helmet.

"ARTHUR!" Catherine yelled, forcing her way into the room. "ARTHUR! We need to talk! NOW!"

Everyone at the table jolted to attention, eyes fixed on Catherine as she swept into the room, George bouncing on one hip. George baby gurgled as they moved effortlessly past Lord Moroworth, the lord's jaw hanging open as she ignored him completely.

Gwaine was awake now. Blinking back the sleep he squinted at Catherine for a moment, only to find George deposited in his lap a moment later.

"Arthur, there has been another attack." Catherine said, ignoring the way in which Lord Moroworth was still staring at her. Her outfits had changed a little since she arrived in Camelot four years ago, she wore less weapons and on the odd occasion Morgana coaxed her into dress, but for the most part she stuck to tight fitting breeches and tunics made of soft, coloured cotton. Her clothes and demeanour still tended to have an unsettling effect on visiting nobles though and Lord Moroworth was no exception.

"Excuse me my lady but I think you will find—"

"Lord Moroworth." Catherine said, turning to face the man with an expression of clear contempt. "Your taxes are too high, just as they have always been and if I'm correct, you have managed to double your grain yields this year, except in a small village called Tarlon. You have a rather decent set of proceedings concerning law and justice, nothing that I could really fault so there is little to be said on that and there has been a series of raids within your western territories but the raiders have been dealt with swiftly and successfully. Anything you would like to add."

There was a moment of rigid quiet as everyone in the room held themselves completely still while Lord Moroworth's face contorted violently before finishing up in an expression resembling a constipated stoat.

"I didn't think so." Catherine smiled. She turned back to Arthur and held up a small scrap of parchment.

"The lower town this time, a baker's daughter." Catherine said. "The same as all the others, except this time he left us a note."

With a flick of her wrist Catherine sent the parchment fluttering towards Arthur who managed to catch it just in time. Uncurling his fingers from the crumpled message he scowled at scratchy writing sprawling across the paper. The lettering a dull brown colour, the same tone and texture as dried blood.

"Is this…?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Blood." Catherine replied shortly. "It all seems to be a game to him. He's not interested in the girls but some bigger prize that we have no idea about. It's almost been four years and we still have no idea about this monster's motivations."

Arthur nodded, aware that all his knights were now watching him with equally horrified expressions. Arthur stared at the words and began to read:

"_The sands of time are falling, there can only be one immortal, destiny shall bow before me and Albion can fall at my feet." _

"Only one immortal?" Lancelot murmured, "What exactly does that refer to?"

Arthur shook his head. "I have no idea." he said. "We have no idea what this individual wants, or why he would suddenly start leaving clues. It could mean nothing, it could mean a whole lot more."

"I need to leave." Catherine announced. "One of the guards gave me the note and the information, Eveline is with Morgana and I need to go and check that everything is alright."

"Of course." Arthur replied. "I want extra guards around the lower town tonight." he ordered, speaking to his knights this time. "Also bring the curfew forward to sunset; I want this monster found before he can hurt anyone else!"

The room filled with mutters of consent and the scrapping of chairs as the knights began to leave the room.

"Have you had any luck Merlin?" Arthur asked, turning to his manservant who had finally fixed the doll's creepy smile into a rather nice one.

"It's difficult Arthur." Merlin said slowly. "There is something… off about him. It makes him difficult to pinpoint, even with magic."

"Keep trying." Arthur sighed, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. "I don't want any more deaths and I don't want this murder running free in my city any longer. I want him swinging from the gallows."

Merlin nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Your highness?"

Arthur and Merlin both turned their attention to where Lord Moroworth was still sitting.

"May I assume the meeting has been adjured?" he asked.

_**Redrafted: 21**__**st**__** June 2013**_


	3. Chapter 2

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter Two

Perching on the thatched rooftop of one of the houses in the lower town, Catherine eyed up the shadowy figure moving down the alleyway behind the Rising Sun. She had spotted him earlier in the day, lurking around the castle courtyard, looking for her.

The figure didn't hear her feet hit the ground as she dropped from the roof, continuing down the same path as before and not even looking behind him to check if he was being followed. He'd got cocky since Catherine had last seen him, the biggest mistake anyone in their game could make, it just got you killed sooner.

Catherine shook herself slightly, making sure she didn't lose sight of her prey as she wove through the back streets of Camelot. Tonight was a one off, it wasn't her game anymore, it was his, and she was through with playing. There was no room for relationships or family in that sort of life, and there was no middle ground. She had made her choice when she let Gwaine kiss her four years ago; she'd given up everything for him at that moment.

Without any notice the figure spun around, flicking his wrist out towards her as he did. The dagger never reached its target; instead Catherine stared at her prey with cool eyes as she flipped the weapon over in her hand and threw it back.

"Really Shadow, took you long enough." She chided, embarrassed that someone she had trained could allow themselves to be followed for so long without detecting the threat.

"Huntress." Shadow spluttered, slightly surprised to see her standing in front of him. She'd changed, her curves were more pronounced and there seemed to be a slight softening to her features, almost maternal.

"You took me by surprise." He muttered, glaring sourly at the dagger she had just returned.

"You're supposed to be one of the deadliest assassins there is." Catherine said sarcastically, her eyebrow raised slightly, "You should never be taken by surprise."

She couldn't see Shadow's face but Catherine knew it was flushed red, and the tips of his ears would be burning a similar colour. Her criticism had always hit him harder than anyone else's.

"You saw me earlier?" he asked, his confidence slipping as a familiar feeling of inferiority crept back across his mind. The Huntress had been his mentor, she'd saved his life more times than he could count, but he never felt as if he'd ever managed to become successful enough to make her proud. He hadn't been the only one of course; there was a whole collection of them who had desperately tried to impress the Huntress.

"Of course I did." Catherine snapped her patience short from too many nights awake with sleepless children and unsolved murders. She saw Shadow flinch at her words though, and for a moment felt a hint of regret. Being a mother must be making her soft she thought to herself darkly.

"If I'd been anyone else you may have passed undetected perhaps." She sighed, cringing mentally as she spoke, hating the way in which she was unable to keep up the pretence of cruelty as she used to. Motherhood defiantly had her going soft. Shocked at her words Shadow felt his eyes go wide as the half compliment fell out of the Huntress's mouth.

"I…uh…" he stumbled over his words, not sure exactly how to respond.

"You're getting too confident though." Catherine shot in, determined not to allow herself another opportunity to damage her reputation further. It was difficult enough to get men to listen to a women, she needed to be brutal to gain any sort of respect in her old world. "Over confidence gets you killed just as much as stupidity does." She warned, placing one hand on her hip and staring Shadow down. He nodded simply, not trusting himself to speak.

"Anyway." Catherine continued, desperate to get this meeting finished with so she could get back to her children. It wasn't that she didn't trust Gwaine, as hard as it was for her to admit, he was a brilliant father, she just couldn't stand letting her babies out of her sight for too long. "What is your business in Camelot." She demanded, wondering what she was going to do if someone had hired him to kill one of the nobles.

"We thought someone should give you this." Shadow responded quietly, holding out his open palm. In the centre of it glittered half of a silver circle, the bottom segment of a crest engraved into the metal.

"Who's?" Catherine asked, taking the token and examining both sides.

"Archer's." Shadow said simply, using the mercenaries chosen name. That was the way their group had worked, only the Huntress knew their real names, and the rest of the world knew them by the names they had chosen. An easy way to keep anyone connected to them from their previous lives safe. The medallions singled them out as the Huntress's own, and if they were killed the medallion was snapped in half, one part to stay with the body in death and the other to be returned to the Huntress.

"How was he killed?"

The figure shuffled his feat awkwardly,

"I don't know." He admitted, "We only found this half of his medallion, there was no body anywhere nearby, or any signs of what may have happened."

"Then he could still be alive." Catherine stated, tucking the silver half away in her pocket and turning her back on Shadow. "Send me a message if there are any further developments, if one of my own is taken I want him found."

Watching her go the Shadow paused for a moment, debating if he should speak again or not.

"I saw you with a little boy." He said quickly, rushing his words out. "Who was he?"

Catherine froze, turning back to face the young man who she known since he was a gangly teenager, trying to steal the purse of one of the most feared warriors there were. He'd had far too much courage even then.

"He's my son." She announced finally, watching Shadow carefully. "I have a daughter as well, slightly older."

"What are their names?" he asked, scrambling for some sort of connection between his mentor and the woman he now saw before him. The idea of her with children seemed unbelievable, but he'd seen it for himself, they way the child had leaned into her chest, clutching at its mother.

"Eveline and George." Catherine said quietly, disappearing into the darkness before Shadow had chance to call her back.

Shadow stood motionless though, his hands hanging limply by his sides. He thought that perhaps he was hearing things, and the Huntress and not said what she seemed to say. She's named her son after him.

_**Here is another chapter, I really wanted to use this chapter to reveal a little more of Catherine's past, she's quite a complicated character, and I'm really looking forward to using her previous acquaintances in the plotline. Hope you all enjoyed and I can't wait to hear what you thought so please review.**_


	4. Chapter 3

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter Three

"Who was he?"

Catherine jumped slightly as Gwaine's voice appeared from the shadows of a doorway just to her right, the man himself only just visible as he leaned back against the wooden frame with his arms crossed against his chest.

"Who was he?" he demanded again, glaring at Catherine suspiciously, the set of his shoulders giving away that he already knew exactly who it was she had been talking to, and he didn't like it at all.

"An old friend." Catherine replied shortly, regaining her composure and starting off back towards the citadel. She was _not _going to have this conversation down some dingy little alley way in the middle of the night.

"What was he doing in Camelot?" asked Gwaine, keeping pace with her exactly as she marched further out of the lower town. Gwaine knew that there were aspects of Catherine's life that he knew nothing about, secrets that she still kept from him, but he never allowed himself to worry too much about that. He trusted her to do what was right for her family; however, when it came to characters such as Shadow he wasn't willing to let that trust go too far.

"He was just passing through." spat Catherine, feeling her heart clench as she saw Gwaine flinch at her words. She hated being cruel to him, somehow he managed to make her feel awful for the smallest things without meaning to, but she needed him to leave this topic alone!

"Why was one of the Huntress's flunkies anywhere near Camelot to begin with? How do you even know him?"

Furious that Catherine was trying to weave around his questions and avoid answering him Gwaine caught hold of her elbow, spinning her back around to face him. They were still in the town, ramshackle houses propped up on either side of them and the citadel silhouetted by the moonlight behind Catherine.

"Catherine." Gwaine pleaded, some of the anger dropping out of his voice. "Please tell me you never worked for the Huntress. She is more danger than she is worth." There was desperation in Gwaine's voice that Catherine couldn't remember hearing before.

A hard lump had formed in Catherine's throat, making it hard to swallow, and for a moment she thought she was going to be ill. Of course Gwaine had heard about the Huntress, he'd probably visited every tavern in the five Kingdoms and heard the drunken stories that men passed around over tankards of ale. She had wondered what would happen if he found out the Huntress was her, what he would do to her if that secret got out. The one scenario that had not passed through her mind was what he would do if he thought she worked for the Huntress.

"Gwaine, I don't know what you're talking about." She spluttered, trying to keep her voice from shaking as she spoke. "Why would I work for the Huntress? What would make you think that?"

Gwaine shrugged, a guilty look flitting across his face.

"I met one of her flunkies before, after a few drinks he was more than happy to say just about anything. The Huntress's lot are thicker than thieves, and a lot of them are just that."

Catherine hoped Gwaine hadn't felt her muscles lock up. She had never had common thieves under her employ; it was ridiculous to think that she would even considered allowing anyone of such low standing to work for her. Some of her followers may have stolen before, but not under her, under her they were expected to have a certain level of professionalism when it came to the jobs they undertook.

"The Huntress takes them in and trains them into killers." Gwaine continued, oblivious to any discomfort Catherine may have been showing. "They barely have a spare word to anyone outside their little group, but Shadow! Shadow sought you out, I saw him today, and this meeting tonight wasn't an accident! Why did you go out and find him Catherine?"

"I told you, he was an old friend." She snapped, yanking her arm away from him and storming off again. She knew that Gwaine was only trying to be a concerned husband, trying to protect her and keep their family safe. She didn't need protecting though; she had looked after herself for years and did just fine. Gwaine had even said it himself, people saw her as too dangerous to get tangled up with.

They passed the rest of journey in silence, slipping into their room without a word and lighting the candles. The children slept further down the corridor and both had been deep in dreams when Catherine stuck her head around the door to check on her two babies. The sight of their faces brought back the guilt, she shouldn't have gone to meet Shadow, it had been a bad move on her part but there had been little choice in the matter.

Out of all those who had followed the Huntress, Shadow had been her most constant. It was why he had taken the name in the first place, the only one who dared to follow the Huntress as if he _were_ her own shadow. Catherine had hated it at first, making sure she took ridiculously complicated routes wherever she went just so he would get lost, and fail to keep on her tail. Somehow he always managed to find her again, his familiar presence popping up just when she thought she was free of him at last.

What had infuriated her most though, was how similar he could be to Merlin, if only by accident. He tripped down a flight of stairs once and she'd been unable to stop laughing for almost an hour, chuckling about the way he'd gone head over heels and then almost bursting into tears as she realised how much it reminded her of Merlin tumbling down hills when they were younger.

She never loved him in the romantic sense, but something close had formed as the years passed and she'd found herself glad of the company at times. He made her miss Merlin terribly though, and in the end that was what drove her to Camelot and away from everything she had as the Huntress. It was why she named her first child George, after the boy who sent her home in a way. Camelot was home now, the place where she felt safe and loved, but there was a sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach that something terrible was about to happen. A feeling that told her she couldn't let go of the Huntress as easily as she had assumed before.

_**So there you go, the third instalment and I will let you in on a secret, this has been ready for almost an entire week! I feel so prepared! I will be sticking a new chapter up each Monday, so I hope you all keep reading and reviewing. Tata for now!**_


	5. Chapter 4

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter Four

Morgana felt the scream rip through her throat as she bolted forward terrified. Panting she stared wildly at the empty space in front of her, her chest heaving with each breath as the scenes from her nightmare rolled over and over again in her mind. Merlin's hands were pressing against her shoulders in moments, his fingers gently easing away some of the tension that had built up there.

"I'm guessing it was a pretty bad one?"

Morgana just nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she scrubbed at her tearstained cheeks with the sleeve of her nightgown. Merlin was always there, ready to comfort her the moment the dreams came and never once complaining about how little sleep he got on the nights when they were bad.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, his hands leaving her shoulders as he shuffled closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Morgana leant back into him, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"I can only remember glimpse." She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as indistinguishable images flashed across her mind. She caught a snippet sometimes, a body lying in a pool of blood here, and a screaming mother somewhere else. The sounds were the worst, the battle cries of warriors as they charged towards their own deaths.

"They all die!" Morgana sobbed, grasping hold of Merlin's arm and hugging herself closer to his bare chest. "Everyone always dies!"

"Oh Morgs." Merlin soothed, kissing her brow and wishing that there was something he could do to help her. None of the potions they had tried kept the visions at bay, and the healing bracelet that Morgouse had left only warded against the less world shattering possibilities. "We're safe here, no one is going to try and hurt you here."

"It's not me." Morgana choked, still clinging to Merlin as if her were the only thing keeping her anchored to the world. "I saw Catherine and Gwaine! Oh Merlin! They were holding Eveline! They were holding her corpse!"

Morgana completely broke down at that point, losing the ability to speak; Morgana simply shook as Merlin held her in numb arms and tried to process what she had just said.

"You saw Eveline die." He repeated dumbly, mechanically moving his hand in circles over Morgana's back in a stunned attempt at comfort. He couldn't tell if Morgana nodded or if she was just shuddering from her tears. "How?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Morgana howled, drawing in gasping breaths and she tried to regain some degree of composure. "I can only remember Catherine and Gwaine holding onto her body!"

Merlin shook his head quickly, shaking away the paralysing shock which had draped itself over his brain.

"It's not possible Morgs." He whispered. "I swear that girl has more people protecting her and watching her every move than the King and Queen themselves. There is no way that anyone would be able to get near her never mind cause her harm."

"But-" Morgana spluttered,

"No!" Merlin said firmly, "Don't Morgana, I've seen what happens when people see the future and then try to prevent it before they really understand the actions that are being dealt. We need to wait and see what happens before we rush headlong into something that could even cause what you saw to take place."

Morgana nodded, pulling away from Merlin and finally looking at him properly. She could see that he was scared, his eyes had taken on a darker colour and there was something hiding behind them that she couldn't quite figure out.

"You never did tell me all your secrets." She whispered, running her fingers across the creases in his brow. He wasn't a boy anymore; he'd bulked out slightly since she'd returned to Camelot. He wasn't to the stage that the knights were at, but he'd reached a point where he could hold his own against Arthur, and if magic was concerned then Arthur never stood a chance.

"No I haven't." he admitted, "But I never expected you to tell me all of yours."

"Why not?" she asked, allowing her hand to drop back to her lap where Merlin caught it and wrapped in within his own.

"I was hoping that instead of looking back at mistakes we could let out future actions determine what goes on between us." He ended by pressing Morgana's hand to his lips, flashing her his typical grin when she smiled at the action. The smiles were strained though, the nightmare still gnawing at the backs of their minds.

"Arthurs right." Morgana murmured, leaning in closer, "I really can't tell if you're incredibly wise or just spouting complete and utter nonsense at me."

"If it's nonsense then it's only nonsense for you." Merlin laughed, settling back against the pillows on the bed and letting Morgana settle beside him.

"Defiantly complete and utter nonsense then." Morgana teased, her smile dropped suddenly as Merlin felt her grow taught beside him.

"What if it comes true?" she asked, "The dream I mean, what if Eveline-" Morgana cut herself off, feeling the lump rise in her throat and tears threaten to spill again. It didn't do any good to be crying now, she'd only just managed to stop.

"Morgana you can't worry about something that may never happen. Focus on the present and let's do what we can to make sure that everyone is safe for now." Merlin soothed, holding her a little tighter and relaxing as she seemed to take comfort in his words. He wasn't sure he believed them himself though, he knew that the visions he'd once seen had come true, and that he'd driven them onwards… but Morgana. Even when Morgana stood back and did nothing her dreams somehow became a reality. Merlin had told Morgana what she needed to hear, it wasn't lying as such since neither of them really understood her seers power, but it hadn't been the whole truth either. He'd have to keep a closer eye on Eveline, on everyone, but he'd organise that in the morning.

"Just try and get some sleep Morgs." He murmured, completely aware that neither of them were going to get a moments rest that night.

_**She's back and she also had a very strong shield that she stole off an old Roman soldier to protect herself with! I'm so sorry it's been so long since I updated, my school work just completely took over and any spare time I had went into working on my original stories which are apparently getting really, really good if anyone wants to check them out. If you just Google CarolJForrester you'll find the website as well as a tonne of links to all my fan fiction stuff! Anyway I hoped you liked this chapter and another should be up within a week or two. As I said, if you can't wait until then you can check out my other bits of writing, I'm much better at updating my original stuff than my fan fictions and comments are always welcome. They encourage me to keep working and get new stuff out there for you all to read. Huge amounts of love for those of you who keep putting up with my shoddy updating, I really appreciate it and I really do intend to clean up my act. See you sometime within the week either on 'A Knight's Daughter' or one of my other fan fictions. **_


	6. Chapter 5

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter Five

Merlin found himself examining each of the members of the court individually, searching for even the slightest indication that they were hiding something. As a result Merlin found himself dealing with the beginnings of sleep deprivation, and a large list of philandering Lords, pick pocketing servants and a number of maids who did not spend most nights in their own beds.

There wasn't a single person that he could find who seemed to have any sincere motivations towards harming his family. Morgana's dream refused to release its hold though, despite Merlin's own heavily voiced arguments towards ignoring the vision all together.

"You know, it is far more effective to have other people doing the spying for you, and then reporting back." Catherine whispered, causing Merlin to jump slightly as she sidled up to him along the side of the great hall.

Arthur was holding some sort of important meeting, though most of the words passed right through Merlin's head as his eyelids had begun to droop.

"And you would know all about spy syndicates how?" Merlin whispered back, amusement tingeing his tone. Catherine smiled at the tease, but he could tell her heart wasn't really in it and her stance was taut, ready for a fight.

"What's wrong?" He asked, noticing that instead of the more casual clothes she had taken to wearing since moving to Camelot, she was back in her old gear and strapped in with more daggers than Camelot probably had in its armoury. "You look like you're about to run off on some mission or another."

She shook her head, attempting to brush off the observation without actually answering.

"Catherine." Merlin said warningly, while still keeping his voice low enough not to interrupt Arthur. "Something's going on, I know it."

"I'm just a little on edge." She lied, "I thought that it would make me feel less nervous if I wore something like I used to, when I was actually able to fight off my enemies, instead of chasing their shadows."

"Catherine." Merlin's words were soft. "We'll catch this monster; it's just a matter of time."

She shook her head again, not trusting herself to actually tell Merlin what was on her mind at that moment. Arthur's voice filled the silence that fell between them, allowing Catherine to escape from the conversation for the time being.

Catherine watched as Merlin's head nodded slightly, his breathing deepening as he somehow managed to fall asleep standing up. She almost missed the slight flicker of movement in the corner of her sight as a familiar figure slipped in and out of the room.

Glancing at her brother she slipped back through the crowds and out of the hall, taking off towards the main courtyard. People moved out of the way for her, partly because she had married a Knight and partly because she somehow managed to carry more authority that half the nobility in the castle thrown together. Intimidation really was an art form in her opinion.

Shadow was waiting for her down the same alleyway where they had met before, his gaze shifting nervously as she approached.

"It worries me that you see an alley way as a suitable meeting spot for reports." She sniped, slipping back into her old persona more easily that she had done her old clothes. She had been severely tempted to beat Gwaine for ruining her figure with those two pregnancies.

"You were the one who called _me_." He snapped, switching his weight from one leg to the other. Something had shaken him, and badly.

"What did you find out?" Catherine was choosing to ignore his jumpiness for now, he'd get over what was causing it in the end, and it didn't do her any good to mother him.

"Not much." He replied, licking his lips nervously. "This guy you're all so keen to catch is good, really good."

Repressing the desire to break the spy's nose, Catherine took a calming breath.

"I know he's good." She hissed, "He's bloody brilliant! If he wasn't, I would have had him hanging by his own entrails months ago!"

Shadow shrank back slightly, huddling into himself as the venom of Catherine's words hit him.

"Some of the others will be here by the end of the week." He told her, "And there have been a few rumours about another disappearance. Another one of us just vanishing like we never existed."

Groaning, Catherine ran her hand through her hair, her mental tally of problems to solve jumping upwards. Sometimes she wondered if staying away from Camelot would have been the best decision she ever made, but the idea quickly faded when Gwaine or her children walked into the room. It was just infuriating when family multiplied the difficulties of life, but that was the prerogative of relations.

"I will see you at the end of the week then." She said at last, clipping her words short as her temper reached its last thread. "I will arrange the place though! No more back alley meets, it's beyond reason."

Without so much as a nod Shadow was gone, leaving Catherine standing alone in the alleyway staring at an empty spot.

"I tried to convince myself that you couldn't be her."

Catherine felt her blood run cold as Gwaine's voice crept out of one of the doorways behind her.

"I mean, just because you an incredible fighter, terrifying beyond all reason and happen to know a few shady people…" Gwaine's voice trailed off.

"I can explain." Catherine said, her voice catching as she spoke. "I can explain everything."

"I found this." Gwaine muttered, throwing something small and silver at her. Catching it she turned it over in her hand. "It's why he was here in the first place, to tell you that one of _your_ mercenaries had got himself done in."

Catherine felt her eyes beginning to prickle at the bitterness in Gwaine's speech. He was so angry at her that she could feel it radiating out from his body in horrid black waves.

"Does Merlin know that his sister is an assassin?" he demanded, neither of them actually turning to look at the other.

"What do you think?" Catherine choked, clenching her hand around the half medallion. "Do you think I'm proud of my past?"

"But it's not your past is it?" Gwaine roared, throwing himself out of the doorway and grabbing her arm to wrench her around. "You still use your little contacts when you need to get your own way. You pour yourself back into the perfect mould of the heartless Huntress, uncaring about anything but her end result."

"That's not true!" she could feel the tears now, streaming down her cheeks. Her chest was burning, her heart seemingly splitting in two as she saw the hurt in Gwaine's eyes.

"Why?" spat Gwaine. "Why did you become her?"

"I had to." Catherine sobbed her arm hurting where he was gripping it too tightly. She could have broken away easily, but she didn't want to, she couldn't bear to lose contact for good.

"You had to." Gwaine repeated, sounding completely unconvinced.

"It was the only way to keep him safe."

"Keep who safe?" There was confusion etched in every line of Gwaine's expression but slowly they cleared.

"You mean Merlin." He said quietly.

It was all Catherine could do to dip her head in confirmation.

_**Anyone still reading this? I know, I know, bad, bad Carol! Sorry about the huge delay, it shouldn't be as long next time. Just let me know what you think and I'll get the next chapter up in a week or two hopefully. **_


	7. Chapter 6

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I.**_

Chapter Six

Merlin barely looked up as his sister crashed through the door into his workroom. After a rather unfortunate incident involving Morgana's temper, and a number of rather volatile substances, Arthur had ordered that all of items related to magic be removed from the couple's chambers. Instead, the old Court Sorcerer's tower had been reopened and restored.

Merlin's initial irritation about the move had worn off once he uncovered a rather impressive library hidden behind a secret door on one of the lower floors. The trouble was now more to do with keeping the castle librarian, Geoffrey out of the rooms and protecting the books from the old librarian's grasping hands.

"What did Gwaine do this time?" Merlin asked, turning the page in the book he was reading and jotting down a few notes on a piece of scrap parchment. "You really need to learn some patience when it comes to his short falls; you seem to bring out most of them."

Catherine didn't bother to reply; instead she paced restlessly from one side of the room to the other with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"I should have left years ago." She snapped in Merlin's direction, earning a slightly raised eyebrow as her brother heard the same threats that she made every time she and Gwaine fell out. She would continue on for about twenty minutes, explaining why she should have never stayed in Camelot, until she finally got down to death threats. Normally the latter were isolated to Gwaine's health, but Arthur was thrown into the mix every now and again.

Patiently he setteled his quill on the table and waited to sit out the storm.

"Did he take Eveline to the tavern again?" he prompted, hoping to shorten the time it would take to get to Catherine's ranting. "She was never in any real danger if I'm honest. There isn't a hand in Camelot that would dare harm her."

"What! No." Catherine said, running one hand through her hair as her eyes flashed towards each of the exits.

Merlin felt the muscles in his shoulders knot up.

"Catherine you can't actually consider running away from Camelot. Think about what you would be leaving behind."

"I do!" she cried, spinning around to face her brother. "I think about it every night as I lie awake in bed staring at that wretched ceiling. I think about Eveline growing up without a mother, and George having only the faintest memory of a woman who once carried him around. It is all my mind thinks about Merlin and it's killing me."

"Why?" Merlin demanded, "Why would you even entertain ideas about leaving if the concept hurts you so much?"

"Because I have to!" Catherine sobbed, throwing her head back and trying to blink the tears away. "I can't protect anyone while I'm here."

The silence fell.

"Have you spoken to Gwaine about this?" asked Merlin, staring at his hands in his lap instead of Catherine.

"In a way." She said evasively.

"I suppose he was less than happy?"

Catherine snorted loudly. "He's more concerned with other aspects of my past. I think if it wasn't for Eveline and George then he would have gone to Arthur and had me banished the moment we parted ways."

"He loves you too much to ever ask Arthur to do that." Merlin said softly, moving to stand behind his sister. Taking hold of his shoulders he moved his thumbs in small circles, trying to offer comfort despite the sickening pit that had opened in his gut.

"I don't know that he hasn't gone to Arthur." Catherine admitted. "I'm simply hoping that he wouldn't be spiteful enough to do so."

"Catherine! I don't understand how-"

"Merlin stop!" Tearing away from his grip Catherine put the table in between them. She needed barriers, the same ones that she had when she first came to Camelot. They were just a lot harder to build up a second time.

"I can't stay in Camelot." She said, trying to keep her voice from wavering as she spoke. "I've done some terrible things, and I'm not proud of my past. This city is like a noose around my neck and if I don't break free soon then it will choke the last of the life out of me!"

"So you're running away." Merlin said bluntly. "That's your solution, leave everyone else to deal with the mess while you run away to some new place and throw yourself into whatever adventure throws itself your way."

"I'm not running away." She hissed, her back arching in a similar manner to the stray alley cats that scrapped for spilled milk in the market place.

"Then what is this!" Merlin roared. "I watched you do this so many times. Some form of balance establishes itself in your life and all of a sudden you can't stand to be in the same place for more than five minutes."

"I'm not running away!" Catherine persisted, slamming her hands down onto the table. "I'm going back!"

"Back where?" Merlin asked, "What has that much power that you need to abandon your family to get back to it?"

"I can't tell you!" she said. "It's complicated and there isn't time for me to stay and map out all the details."

Throwing his hands in the air Merlin stormed off across the room, grabbing hold of one of the window sills to lean against.

"Will you be coming back?"

Catherine shuddered slightly. "I don't know." She answered honestly, perhaps for the first time in a long time. "You can't judge these sorts of things."

"Of course." Merlin bit out.

"I didn't choose this life Merlin." She snapped, suddenly furious that he dared to look down on her.

"Which life would that be then?" reeling around Merlin straightened up to face her. "The one where you were always gone, dropping in without warning and always turning everything upside-down? Or do you mean the life where you're expected to care and love for someone else besides yourself?"

"That isn't fair." Catherine whispered.

"And neither is this!" Merlin said.

_**Merlin might not seem all that Merliny in this chapter, but I doubt anyone would take their sister running out on her family too well. I know Merlin is so wonderfully loving in the BBC drama, but I tend to think you have to draw the line somewhere. Anyway, if you don't agree then you can leave a review, or you can leave a review if you do agree or have no opinion whatsoever.**_


	8. Chapter 7

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I.**_

Chapter Seven

Gwen glanced at Arthur, the white bone of his knuckles pressed up against skin as he gripped the arms of his throne. His shoulders were rigid, his lips pressed tightly against each other, and the whole throne room reverberated with a cold, dark anticipation, waiting for the stranger standing in their midst to start speaking.

Looking around, the familiar pit of grief that claimed residence in Gwen's gut gaped and widened, her gaze picking out the faces missing instead of the ones who were there. Catherine was long gone, vanishing into the night over a month before, leaving Merlin to explain her absence and everyone else to worry over Gwaine.

They had all expected him to turn to the tavern. Walk through the door of _The Rising Sun_ and stay there, drinking until he hit the straw covered floor, too far gone to walk or remember her face. That was what was expected of him.

Instead he stayed sober, even smiled and laughed at times. Idolised his children, spent his free time distracting them from the gaping void left where there mother had been, and tried to avoid Catherine's name at all costs.

He fell among the missing faces, alongside Merlin, who refused to have anything more to do with his sister. That development worried Gwen. She couldn't understand how her friend, so caring and kind to others, has suddenly cut his own sister from his life. She understood how it felt to watch your sibling flit in and out, rarely giving more than a few words of warning before they were gone again. Granted, Elyan had never abandoned her in the way Catherine had with Gwaine and the children…

Gwen shook the thoughts from her head, feeling the burning starting behind her eyes as tears threatened to fall. It didn't do to wonder on what had taken place. All they could do was listen to the stranger who'd entered the throne room, and hope that he could reveal some tiny nugget of information which could balm the hurt Catherine caused.

"And you are?" Arthur prompted, doing his best to keep the bitterness out of his tone. Gwen would be there for him once the audience had finished and they were alone in his chambers. She knew him too well by this point, he would think of his own mother, empathise with baby George, and understand what it was to never know the woman who birthed you. Except he saw this as so much worse than losing your mother to death. In Arthur's eyes, as Gwen had come to realise the day after Catherine leaving, her disappearance was a betrayal which would make Arthur hate Merlin's sister until her last breath.

Cloaked and armed, the stranger withstood the careful, fixed gaze of the guards, his hands held slightly away from his body in a sign of goodwill.

"My name is Shadow." he said calmly, his features hidden by the shadow of his hood. "I answer to the Huntress alone."

A ripple of gasps and mutterings ran around the throne room, Gwen thought her head seemed to have suddenly detached from her body, giving her the odd feeling of not quite being all together there as she watched Arthur maintain his composure.

"You're an assassin." Arthur stated calmly, twitching a finger to make sure his guards did not leap forward and kill the man. "Why would you come to Camelot? The Huntress' order is not well welcomed within these walls."

Shadow smirked, at least Gwen thought he had, it was difficult to tell. Her skin tingled uncomfortable, and her hands itched, as if they wished to cover the assassin's mouth and keep whatever words were about to be spoken unheard. For a horrible, sickening moment, she felt as if something irreversible, and devastating was about to be said, except she had no idea what it was or who it would hurt.

"The Huntress wishes no harm upon Camelot." Shadow said, spinning his words through a smile.

Gwen breathed out, the sensation of dread receding somewhat, though she was still non-the-wiser to why she felt such a powerful need to avert whatever it was she had felt needed averting.

"Her message was sent with the purest intentions." he added.

"The purest intentions?" Arthur snorted. "I did not think such an act would become such a powerful figure within your order."

Shaking his head, Shadow dropped his gaze to the floor beneath his feet. He seemed confident, but Arthur could see something in his stance, something that told Arthur there was a secret being kept, an important fact not told.

"The Huntress believes that the murders your city has suffered, may not be as isolated as you believed them to be." said Shadow, raising his voice above the chatter as the noise leapt once more. "Similar attacks have started across the kingdoms, and the Huntress fears that a terrible force is at play. A force that no king, or assassin for that matter, could face alone."

Gwen looked for one man to the other, he gaze flickering back and forth. Camelot had faced great evil before, heavens! One of those great evils now lived within the castle itself, reformed of course, but her actions had left marks.

No. What worried Gwen, and worried Arthur by the look in his eyes as she turned her gaze to him, was the words "the Huntress fears". The Huntress did not fear. Gwen had heard the stories, all the Kingdoms had, and possible lands beyond their shores had felt whispers of the Huntress creep into the tongues of bards. Huntress was dangerous, un-movable in her decisions, and did not under any circumstances admit to fearing for what may come.

If she had chosen to approach Arthur it meant two things. The first being that Arthur had impressed her, not enough to warrant a personal visit, but enough to send someone on her behalf, and secondly-

Gwen swallowed, sank back against the wall and wove through the crowd towards the back of the throne room where she escaped through the doors.

If the Huntress was afraid, then something truly terrible was lurking on the horizon.

_**Look! I've updated, and I'm going for a quick cuppa and then I'll try and update some of my other stuff once I've finished my nanowrimo for the day. How does that sound? Terribly sorry for the delay, but thank the guilt trippers across my fanfics who continue to pester me for updates in their reviews. I both despise and love you. You make me work, but I'm ecstatic that you love my work.**_


	9. Chapter 8

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter Eight

Catherine squinted at the piece of parchment in her hand. The corners curled towards her, hunching over the faded spider-web of lay lines, the last evidence of old folds. She'd pulled it sodden and crumpled from the dead man's hand. No neatness or precision left about it whatsoever. Just smeared ink and illegible words.

As far as Catherine was concerned the death was: 'an unfortunate occurrence', an avenue of inquiry she could no longer follow due to the rather useless nature of a dead man's mouth. She ignored the pin-prick of guilt needling at the back of her mind, reminding her that the messenger might have had family, someone he cared about, someone who was now waiting for a return that would never take place. She ignored all those thoughts and pushed them down, alongside the memories of Camelot, telling herself once again that she was doing what was needed. This was her way of keeping those people in her heart safe. As long as she kept them safe then there was a chance she might sleep at night.

Shadow shifted behind her, easing the cramp from his legs as he crouched fifty feet up on a stone shelf, partially obscured by the mist coming off the waterfall to his left. He was jittery, too soon too still after his trip to Camelot, and waiting for a dead man to give up his last secrets never sat well with Shadow. It was a glimmer of morality that Huntress had let slide and Catherine had envied.

A second figure stood above Shadow, peering over the cliff every now and again to check Huntress was still at the bottom. Silversmith was a man of few words, even more so than Percival. The only time that Catherine had heard him speak, his voice dripped like thick honey dripping from his lips. The words themselves were heavy and potent, clinging to the mouth that spoke them. If Silversmith spoke, you remembered the way his lips moved, not just the words he said.

"Don't follow this." he warned her, stood against the cellar wall of a popular tavern in Mercia. No one in the room above bothered with the gathering beneath them; especially after the Huntress slipped the tavern keeper enough gold to keep every tankard full until the entire place was drank dry.

Catherine had frowned. No one, not a single person under her command had ever told her to leave something alone. They nodded, they agreed and they followed the orders she set. That was the way her organisation worked and how it would always work.

Not this time though. Her informants had gone to ground, in every city in every kingdom, no matter who they were, they were gone. So Catherine dug them out and twisted arms until they popped. It wasn't pleasant, it wasn't kind, and Catherine twisted back into Huntress with the first snap of bone.

It made her wonder if Gwaine hadn't been wrong to look at her the way he did. Perhaps he'd seen that night, seen how close she always was to becoming Huntress again. It was a thought that joined the others buried inside her, and she went back to wringing out answers from her old informants.

Many had given her very little. Apparently she was no longer the most terrifying force across the five kingdoms, she didn't make people quake as they had once done. Or more accurately, there was another who had found the power to cast a darker shadow that Huntress would have to match.

In Mercia she had rooted out a gangly young man, two years her junior, with a mop of dark hair and startling blue eyes. His name danced around her memory, just out of reach as he knelt, heaving water onto the dirt floor of his home. Shadow had stood beside the window, pretending to watch the street outside as his complexion steadily turned a deeper shade of grey. Afterwards, once they had a name and a location to find, Catherine slipped away from her men for an hour, only to return with the taste of bile stuck at the back of her throat and red circling her eyes. Shadow avoided her and Silversmith bowed his head. That night she wondered if his warning had been about what she would find if she chased her mystery, or if Silversmith had known who the chase would let back in.

The name the were given was Guard, a messenger whose body now lay in the shallow waters near the edge of a waterfall that Catherine didn't know the title of. His death was not one to add to her a tally, though it probably would have been if the second he'd seen her face he hadn't thrown himself over the cliff.

The gift of low rainfall meant the body didn't go far, but the parchment tucked inside his sleeve was soaked. Even once it dried, the mess of run ink was almost impossible to read.

Shadow shifted again. The movement was different this time, more calculated.

Catherine folder the parchment four times, tucked the small square away safely and began to rise to her feet. She curled her hand into a fist by her side, and tapped her index finger against the base of her thumb.

Woodland surrounded them on all sides, denser at the base of the waterfall and riddled with tiny streams the bubbled and gurgled through the trees. Even without much wind the leaves still moved, catching against each other with a soft rustle.

Huntress scanned the undergrowth as far as she could without moving her head, knowing that Shadow and Silversmith would be doing the same above her. There were no scraps of colour marking hidden men, no glints of sunlight shafts upon weapons. The woodland before her seemed empty.

Her warning was the slight rasp of boots against tree bark, the sound of a foot shifting as an archer adjusted his stance in order to let his arrow fly.

Catherine lunged to her right, putting a tree trunk three times her width between herself and the sound. She ducked, plucking a dagger from her boot and twisting it across her palm to get her grip just right. Pressing her back against the tree trunk she listened again.

It seemed that Guard had not been travelling alone.


	10. Chapter 9

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter Nine

"What happened?" Arthur asked, keeping his voice hushed as he pulled the door of Gwaine's house closed behind him and turned to face Gwen. "The guards are claiming to have found the Huntress' mark nearby."

He watched as Gwen shifted uncomfortable, turning her face away from him. It was still the early hours of the morning, and the sun had not yet risen, leaving the areas of the Camelot without braziers dark and uninviting. Arthur could understand Gwaine not wishing to remain in the chambers that he had shared with Catherine, but his new lodgings were cold and damp, crouching in the shadow of the citadel walls. Merlin and Morgana had persuaded him to allow the children to remain in the castle near them. Morgana had fought the case especially hard; insisting that Eveline should be kept where Merlin's magic could be easily used to protect the child. It was Gwaine that could have done with the protection though.

Gwen stood with her back to Arthur; eyes fixed on the wall of the next houses which was so close that Arthur would have been unable to find the room to stand with both arms outstretched. He could see the cords of muscle tensed along her neck and the slight shiver that rattled through her petite figure as she tried to wrestle some unexplained anger back into check.

"Gwen." he called, reaching out a hand to bring her back to him.

"Don't you dare!" she snapped, spinning round to face him and slapping Arthur's hand away from her. "Don't you dare try and make this better! There is no way that anyone could make this better!"

"Gwen I don't understand." Arthur could see the tears gathering in her eyes but there was no tremble in her lips. She wouldn't cry yet. She was too angry for that. "Gwen please." he asked. "Explain to me what is going on."

She stepped back, pressing her spine against the wall of Gwaine's house as if it might make it seem like she had one less front to fight on. Arthur was looking at her, waiting for an explanation as to why Gwaine had been found lying in the alleyway behind the Rising Son; knuckles bleeding and a dagger lodged firmly in his gut.

"It doesn't make any sense." she told him, kneading her hands into the skirts of her dress.

"Catherine loved Gwaine. Why would she want him hurt?"

"Catherine?" Arthur repeated, eyebrows slanting inwards and lips remaining parted after he'd said her name.

Gwen released her skirts and folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself tightly.

"Morgana had a dream." she said. "She dreamt that the Huntress would arrive in Camelot with an army. She couldn't tell if they were here to fight us or defend us, she couldn't even see who was ruling. All she could see was the gates of Camelot and the Huntress riding through them with five crowns tied to her saddle."

"There are five Kingdoms." Arthur said quietly, his hand shifting to his hip where the pommel of Excalibur rested. "Do the crowns represent the rulers or the Kingdoms?"

Gwen shook her head again.

"I don't know. Morgana isn't sure herself. All she could be sure of is the identity of the Huntress."

"Morgana recognised the Huntress?" Arthur asked. "She recognised the most hunted woman, a woman whose face has never been seen outside of her most trusted minions, she recognised _that_ woman from a dream?"

Gwen's eyes softened and her hands fell to her sides. She moved towards Arthur and wrapped her fingers around his wrists, bringing his hand to her lips.

"I know that you still don't trust her." she said, bringing his hands together and covering them with her own. "But Merlin loves her and trusts her enough for everyone in Camelot. Even Leon affords her some amount of respect and he is perhaps the most loyal of your Knights. You must learn to listen to her and give her one more reason to remain the Morgana that we once knew."

Sighing, Arthur dipped his head forward, settling to rest it against the top of Gwen's.

"How did she know it was the Huntress?" he asked. "Could this woman not be someone else?"

He felt Gwen's grip tighten around his hands.

"She wore a necklace." Gwen said. "A necklace made of semi-circles of silver."

"Piece of silver like those the Huntress assigns to all her men." Arthur said. "I did not realise that she kept the halves returned to her on their deaths. It makes her almost seem sentimental, almost human even."

"You don't think she's human?" Gwen asked, her voice barely audible. Arthur could feel her shivering now, the cold night air catching up with them both. He pulled his hands free from hers and drew her into his chest, sharing what warmth he did have.

"I don't know what she is." Arthur admitted. "I've heard the stories. Some say they she sold her soul for power over men, others say she took her power by torturing and terrorizing those who crossed her. The rumours about her methods are never good Gwen. She's vengeful and cruel, without a hint of mercy or goodness about her. She cares for nothing but herself."

Gwen's hands found their way to his chest and she pushed herself back, lifting her face so that she was looking Arthur in the eye.

"Would you say the same of Catherine?" she said. "Would you call her vengeful and cruel? Would you think her incapable of love and compassion?"

"Of course not." Arthur scoffed. "Catherine and the Huntress are two completely different people. Catherine may have her quirks but they hardly compare to the crimes the Huntress is supposed to have committed."

"Oh." Gwen said. "Arthur, you have to know that—"

The door behind them swung open, revealing Gaius standing in the doorway.

"Your highness," he said. "Sir Gwaine is awake and asking to speak with you."

Arthur hovered for a moment; Gwen in his arms and his injured knight waiting for him in the room just beyond.

"I apologise Gwen, I will have to go." he said. "What is it that you were so insistent on telling me?"

Gwen open and closed her mouth, gaping slightly as she tried to form the words she needed to tell Arthur. She had to tell him but for some reason it seemed as if her tongue had swollen to twice its usual size, preventing her from making a sound.

"Your highness." Gaius prompted, still standing in the doorway. "I'm afraid that Gwaine will not remain awake for too long. I have given him a rather powerful tincture for the pain and it makes a patient quite sleepy."

"Of course." Arthur replied, his hands slipping from Gwen. She stared at him, still trying to find her voice. "I will speak to you at a more reasonable hour of the day Guinevere. I'm sure Gaius will see you home safely if Gwaine can spare him for a short time."

Gaius dipped his head respectfully and shuffled out of the house.

"Of course your highness. Sir Gwaine is no longer in any immediate danger. Indeed, the wound missed any vital organs and there is no sign of infection at all. I'm rather hopeful we will see a full recovery soon."

"No need to worry then." Arthur said, leaning forward to kiss Gwen on the forehead before retreating into the house.

Gwen watched Arthur close the door behind himself, the sharp knot of worry and desperation that had been twisting inside of her since speaking to Morgana that morning seeming all the more prominent.

"You did not tell him of Catherine?" Gaius asked.

Gwen's head whipped to the side, eyes wide and startled as she looked at Gauis.

"You knew." she hissed, making sure to keep her voice low so that no one could overhear.

"Of course I knew." Gaius said, offering her his arm as he turned in the direction of her house. "Even Hunith knew what Catherine was playing at, but she did her best to keep it from Merlin. To him, Catherine represents the sister her adores and cherishes. I don't know what it would do to the boy if he found out about the true identity of the Huntress.

Following Gaius' lead, Gwen allowed him to lead her home.

"Why though?" she asked. "Why did she become the Huntress?"

Gauis stopped and looked at Gwen. For once she was reminded of just how old Gaius was. The man she could remember from childhood, one of the few reminders she had of when life was simple, before the insanity of Camelot's royal family had dragged her into the constant state of unexpected surprises.

"No one knows." Gauis told her. "I never asked for fear she would take fright and flee Camelot."

"She did flee." Gwen reminded him. "She took off without a word to anyone in the middle of the night. Arthur searched for her! Merlin searched! Eveline cries in her sleep every night and George barely makes a sound which frightens me more than Eveline's sorrow. A babe should not be that quite Gaius! She destroyed her family."

"I must believe she was trying to protect them." Gauis sighed. "If I believe nothing else in my life it must be that."

"Children need their mothers Gauis." said Gwen. "She should have stayed in Camelot!"

Gauis' features hardened and Gwen felt his arm stiffen beneath hers.

"Do not be so quick to pass judgment on Catherine Gwen. For her to leave as she did there must be a reason, and if she chose not to tell us then there must be a reason for that too. I fear we may have to trust her for now."

"You would have Camelot trust the Huntress?" asked Gwen.

"I would have them trust Catherine." Gaius replied.


	11. Chapter 10

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter Ten

There was no noise no indicate someone else had entered the room, just a shift in the feel or the air, a tickle against Gwaine's awareness that let him know he wasn't alone. He groaned and pulled himself up so that he was propped up against the pillows behind him, facing the woman dressed in green and grey fabric who stood by the kitchen table.

"So she couldn't be bothered to see if I was alive for herself," he chuckled, grimacing as the stitches in his stomach pulled painfully. "Well I suppose I should have seen that one coming.

Tilting her head the woman stared at him, dark eyes narrowing as the yellowed skin of her forehead folded and creased.

"You are not what I was expecting," she said. "I thought you'd be-"

"You thought I'd be what?" Gwaine snapped. "I don't think there is a dam person alive or dead who could tell you what to expect from one of Catherine's decisions."

The woman blinked.

"She said you might be testy."

"Did she now?" Gwaine scowled. "It's funny how that can creep in when the woman you love, the mother of your children, suddenly takes off in the middle of the night! How is it having Catherine back, or should I call her the Huntress now she's ordered the army of cold-blooded murderers to do her bidding once more."

"I believe she misses you," said the woman. "She has been different since her return. I do not think that it is just time to have changed her so."

Gripping the edge of his bed Gwaine began to pull himself towards the room, planting his feet on the cold, dirt earth.

"So why did she send you?" he asked, arms shaking as he forced them to take the brunt of his weight. "Did she think I would believe that she actually loved me if one of her lackies broke into my home and told me that the great and terrible Huntress seemed different?"

The woman's mouth curled into a smile.

"Home would perhaps be an overstatement for this place. Hovel would be more appropriate. As for her love, I know not, I know only that she sent me here to make myself available if my skills were required. Healing your wounds will be a start."

"Well you can walk on out again," Gwaine spat, drawing himself to his feet finally but finding that the wall was needed to keep him in such a position. "I already told Morgan and Merlin, I don't want any hocus, pocus for this. It's good to have something physical to focus on for once."

"You do not understand," said the woman. She stepped forward, crossing the space between them quickly and slamming her palm into Gwaine's stomach. The cry caught in his throat and his vision turned white. There was only pain and the high pitched whine that rang in his ears. The woman stood in front of him, one hand against the wound and the other wrapped around his bicep to keep him from falling.

"What are you-" The rest of the sentence dissolved into a choked groan as the woman's fingers tore past Guias' careful stitching.

"This will hurt," she warned.

Hurt did not cover it. Gwaine had suffered through cauterised wounds before, very few soldiers had been lucky enough to avoid having to cauterise some cut of scrape during their lives, but the fire pouring into his guts was something fiercer altogether. There was no sense of time and suddenly her hands were gone leaving Gwaine to collapse into a sodden puddle next to his bed, shivering as he tried to work out if he was covered in sweat of something worse.

"I'm impressed," said the woman. "You're still conscious and you've not thrown up. Perhaps you were not such a surprising choice for the Catherine after all."

"Huntress," Gwaine rasped, raking his hand through the matted wads of hair sticking to his scalp as he fought down the bile rising in his throat. "You call her Huntress. Catherine is the name for the mother of my children and I never want to hear it pass your lips again."

If Gwaine had not been focused on finding a point on the floor that was not spinning her would have seen the woman smile.

"You're brave for a man on his knees."

"There are worse places to be then your knees," he told her. "Something some of your lot could do with learning."

"Perhaps," she said. "But I have done what I needed to do. Sleep, regain your strength and in the morning read this." She tossed the sealed scroll onto the ground next to him and turned her back. "For a common knight the Huntress affords you a significant amount of respect and faith."

Gwaine didn't reply. He looked at the scroll and swallowed, wondering if he was about to lose the argument between himself and the content of his guts intent on escape.

"She asked me to tell you that it wasn't her who ordered the attempt on your life."

"Oh really?" Gwaine chuckled. "You don't think I'd worked that one out by myself?"

"You had?" smirked the woman.

Gwaine lifted his head to look at her.

"If Catherine wanted me dead I would be dead. The attack was someone else's warning and it wasn't for Camelot, it was for her. I'm going to guess that she's pissed about that slur of disrespect and you're here to make ensure that whoever it was who stabbed me doesn't get the dignity of managing to kill their target."

"Something like that," she replied. "I'm also meant to tell you that she worries for Eveline. Something is brewing and she fears for what it may hold in store for her daughter."

"You mean the daughter she abandoned?" corrected Gwaine.

"Semantics," shrugged the woman. "Abandoned, protected, they are but words. The child is still young and the Huntress still strong. Much can change in the coming months and years. Perhaps they will be reunited."

She turned back to the door, ready to leave the pathetic little dwelling of the Huntress' lover.

"Give her a message from me." Gwaine said, picking the scroll up from the floor and wrapping his hands around it. "Tell her I'm waiting for her to explain what the hell went wrong in her brain when she thought running away would solve anything. Tell her I would have stood by her. That was my job and it still it so if she wants to come back then that door is wide open, she just needs to make sure she's got answers for everyone else when they start asking."

The woman stared at him for a moment.

"I will inform her of your offer. Now if you are done I will be leaving. You must sleep. The Huntress is not the only one riding towards war in these Kingdoms." With that she left, leaving the door to fall shut beside her.

With a shudder Gwaine picked himself up, peeling his clothes from his body as he did so, his sights set on the bucket of water sat on the table. Next to it lay the scroll the woman had brought with her. Swearing under his breath Gwaine picked it up and ripped open the seal, yanking the page flat and squinting at the hastily scrawled words in the bad light.

_I don't expect you to forgive me, _she wrote _but I need you to understand that I never intended to be this person. I never intended to be anyone really and in that uncertainty I became something that I never realised I was capable of. I'm not proud of the blood I've spilled, but I did it to protect those I loved._

_At first I wanted power so that I could keep Merlin safe. I was scared that someone would find out about his magic and I would be helpless in watching him burn or be used as a weapon by people who wouldn't see him as a person._

_I came to Camelot to check on him and once again life took an unexpected turn. I swore I would never turn back to the Huntress, that I would remain Catherine but some things can't be let go of so easily. My past was creeping closer to Camelot and leaving was the only way I could keep you and Eveline and George safe. _

_It seems that in this I also failed._

_I am sorry my love._


	12. Chapter 11

_**I do not own any of the Merlin Characters from the show; they are the property of the BBC and not I. **_

Chapter Eleven

"There are things with must discuss."

Catherine turned away from the rented room's window to look at Silversmith, his own gaze still fixed on the wound that stretched from shoulder to elbow down her left arm. She allowed herself another scowl and she watched him pull another stich through her skin as he sewed her back together again.

"Well someone's suddenly a lot chattier than usually," she said, grimacing as the thread caught and Silversmith gave it a stronger tug. It had a foolish mistake on her part, her years in Camelot had dulled her skills and she'd barely had time to react before one of the men drinking in the tavern below had attempted to drive a dagger into her chest. His body was lying in the alleyway out back now. "What do you want to discuss?" she asked.

"Alone," he said, glancing towards Shadow from the corner of his eye. Catherine followed his gaze and nodded for Shadow to leave the room. They waited to hear the door at the bottom of the stairs open and close before Silversmith spoke again.

"You sent Opal to Camelot," he said. "Why?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow, intrigued that he was interested in this when before he'd never seemed to show any inclination towards wanting to understand her methods.

"I don't see how it concerns you," she said.

"It doesn't," he replied. He tied off the end of the threat and took the loose end between his teeth to snap the length from the needle. Swilling off the tiny shard of bone in the bucket at his feet his slid it back into its slot in a small pouch and tucked the pouch into his belt. "I wished to know if the rumours were true," he added.

"What rumours?" Catherine asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Rumours of children and a lover," said Silversmith. "Is it true?"

"Yes," said Catherine, choosing to stick with the truth for once, it seemed to be finding its way out anyway. "A daughter and a son." She turned back to the window, watching as the shadows deepened over the buildings as night crept closer. The attack by the waterfall had left her with three dead ambushers, two more in the process of bleeding out and one babbling nonsense who'd then decided to drive his own dagger up into his throat. She'd had to work quickly to get any information at all and the information that she did get was terrifying.

The person they worked for knew who she was, both as Catherine and the Huntress. They were only one group, sent out to deal with her before she could become a nuisance; the others were already on their way to Camelot _to deal with her family_. Catherine slit the ambusher from ear to ear, it only sped up his death by moments, but it was gratifying to watch the sneering face go slack.

"You sent Opal to watch over then," guessed Silversmith, his eyes not leaving her face. Catherine still felt uncomfortable when he looked at her like that. She could feel it on her skin, as if he was peeling away layers of herself.

"She is there to make sure that the stubborn; idiot of my husband doesn't get himself killed by people from my past."

"I am not so sure," said Silversmith, shaking his head.

"About what exactly?" She let out a bark of laughter. "That man has no sense when it comes to odds. He even prefers it when he's got less chance of winning."

"I am not so sure that these are men from your past," Silversmith clarified. "It feels… off. You were gone for so long. Why would someone want to tempt you back into the game just to remove you again? It does not seem like the work of an old rival or enemy."

"Then who?" demanded Catherine, throwing herself from her seat. The stiches in her arm pulled and she spun to face Silversmith, her hand leaping up to push her hair back from her face.

"They called you a nuisance," he reminded her. "A nuisance."

Catherine blew out her cheeks and chuckled.

"Doesn't that show you just how far I've fallen," she laughed. "I'm no longer the scourge of the five kingdoms, I'm a common nuisance."

"Maybe he did not mean the Huntress," Silversmith suggested. "Perhaps, this is someone that you crossed under another name."

Catherine froze, Silversmith's words sinking in.

"You mean someone from Camelot."

Silversmith nodded.

"Someone that I crossed under another name. Someone who finds me a nuisance not because the Huntress is a rival but because-" The words died on her tongue and Catherine felt her stomach clench. "Oh goddess no," she whispered. "Archer, Elize, all my informants going to ground, it wasn't just another symptom of something brewing, it was a distraction. It was meant to draw me out here."

"Away from Camelot,"

"Exactly," said Catherine. "Away from Camelot. But this was huge, I mean I've never heard of someone pulling a distraction on such a big scale. To do this someone would need huge amounts or resources or power or…"

"Or very dark magic," Silversmith finished.

"You saw this already," said Catherine. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You had to work it out for yourself," he shrugged. "You rarely listen to advice not reached by your own thinking."

Catherine scowled.

"You make me sound impossible."

Silversmith smiled and shrugged again.

"What do you wish to do?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Catherine admitted. "I cannot just go back to Camelot, if I rush back now then I might as well let whoever is playing us know that I've worked his distraction out. I think…" she paused and licked her lips. "I think we should continue as we were, or at least make it look that way. I want you to go find Shadow, send him to find Myra and pass the message that we need to meet with the druids."

"The druids," Silversmith repeated.

"Yes, the druids. I know they dislike me but they tend to be rather well versed in magical ways and since we are rather limited with our selection on experts of the Old Religion we must swallow our pride and ask for an audience."

Silversmith continued to stare at her.

"What?" demanded Catherine.

He shook his head and stood. With what could have almost been mistaken for a bow, Silversmith turned and left, leaving Catherine stood alone in the room. Suddenly the bed looked far more appealing that traipsing downstairs and dealing with reorganising her men but there was little choice. She was no longer the one doing the hunting, she was instead being hunted.

_**Kind of muddled and chaotic I know, but I think I have an idea for where to take this now so please hold with me if you are still reading.**_


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